“L’Hermoine died off the coast of Brittney after running aground in 1793. Amazingly, she would be reborn more than 200 years later”
By John Danielski
“HUZZAH!” The Marquis du Lafayette’s return to America from his native France attracted a cheering crowds in Boston on April 28, 1780.
The 22-year-old aristocrat, Continental Army general and aide-de-camp of George Washington was not only acclaimed by Americans for his heroism at battles like Brandywine and Monmouth, but on this particular occasion he was carrying wonderful, long-awaited news: The French would finally be sending a fleet of ships and regiments of troops to aid the Patriot cause.
The ship that brought him back to America after his successful diplomatic mission to the court of King Louis was L’Hermione: a 32-gun, 145-foot long, 550-ton French frigate. Launched in 1779 and crewed by 255 souls, she represented a remarkably useful class of warship: the frigate.
Greyhounds of the sea
Lighter than a ship-of-the-line, but still well-armed, only a frigate like L’Hermione would be swift enough to slip through the British blockade of colonies, yet powerful enough to defend itself if challenged.
Designed with just a single gun deck, frigates were too small to trade broadsides with heavy warships in full-scale fleet engagements, but they were perfectly suited for scouting missions, convoying and commerce raiding. Young naval officers longed for postings on these “greyhounds of the sea.” Not only did service aboard a frigate offer the promise of adventure and a chance for prize money, but they were glamorous assignments as well.
Because of their versatility, frigates were always in demand. Horatio Nelson himself once said, “if I were to die at this moment, want of frigates would be emblazoned on my heart.”
Designed in 1776, L’Hermione was one of three vessels in the Concorde-class and represented part of a French naval buildup in anticipation of yet another war with Great Britain. French naval architects were the best in Europe and the design reflected a scientific mixture of speed, maneuverability, and firepower.
Those efforts would culminate in the Yorktown campaign and the surrender of Cornwallis in 1781. L’Hermoine would play her part in the naval blockade that kept the British forces from receiving reinforcements.
L’Hermoine died off the coast of Brittney after running aground in 1793. Amazingly, she would be reborn more than 200 years later because of her connection with Lafayette.
The return of L’Hermoine
In 2015, an exact replica of L’Hermoine would recreate Lafayette’s 38-day voyage as well as commemorate her service at Yorktown.
Although the original Hermione was launched just six months after construction began in 1778, it would take at least a dozen years for the reproduction to be completed.
Beginning in 1993, the project began with four years of pure research: scouring French and British naval archives so that her design and specifications could be rendered into paper plans of absolute authenticity. The journal of an 18th century French naval officer who had served aboard her also proved a great assist.
The keel was laid on July 4, 1997: the day chosen specifically for its significance in the American War of Independence. Yet it was not until 2012 that she exited her dock into the Charente River: her masts and rigging required an additional two years to install.
The original L’Hermoine had cost about 10,000 French livres to build. The final price tag of her reproduction would be €26 million — $29 million in U.S. dollars. An estimated 8,400 tons of lumber would be used in her construction, although only 1,200 tons of that would actually become part of her hull. Hunting down that much useable oak, elm and pine became an adventure in itself; much of it came from Scandinavia and the French Pyrenees. She would eventually require 400,000 individual pieces of wood. Her standing rigging, used to anchor the masts, would run 7.5 miles if stretched end to end and her running rigging, used to manipulate the sails, would span five miles. L’Hermoine’s 36 sails would require 2,200 meters of Irish linen cut and stitched into nearly two acres of canvas.
The company tasked with her reconstruction was already experienced in historical restoration. The outfit was in charge of keeping Versailles and Les Invalides in top condition. Yet buildings are far different from ships and the firm had no experience in nautical matters. Moreover, this was entirely new construction, not maintenance.
The builders required to complete L’ Hermione were hard to find. Shipwright, carpentry and rope-making skills were understood by only a handful of people in France; project managers imported experts from all over Northern Europe; riggers and rope-makers who had worked on the Swedish East Indiaman Gotheborg proved particularly useful.
From the start, the builders intended L’Hermoine to be a working ship not a museum piece. Although she would be sail-powered, she was given two 400-horsepower engines for emergencies. Electronic navigation equipment was added as well. Yet even with those modern aids, she would require a skilled crew that would have to be rigorously trained. That’s because in 2015, the vessel and the entire company would cross the Atlantic bound for America — a dramatic recreation of Lafayette’s 1780 voyage.
Five serving French naval officers and one boatswain formed the core of her command for the passage. A civilian master shipwright, master sail maker, and several technical consultants supplemented them — 20 in all. But the rest of her crew, 64 souls, would be civilian sailors, all volunteers and a substantial portion of them were women. They came from all walks of life: students, artisans, scholars, business people and even a few farmers.
All went through an extensive application and vetting process: motivation and commitment were considered of great importance because this was an adventure not a job. This crew was much smaller than the original because no sailors were needed to man the guns. Her guns were made of cast iron like the originals and had similar weight and bulk: but they were only meant to fire salutes.
Training for the selected volunteers was technically challenging and physically demanding. As with 18th century sailors, a crewmen’s first job was to “learn the ropes.” Many spent off hours reading manuals on rigging to understand the functions of the 186 lines that ran from the forrest of masts and spars. Others worked hard to master the wide variety of sailor’s knots.
Twenty-first century safety standards were applied, but in general the ship would be sailed in the traditional manner using old fashioned techniques. The volunteers had been well briefed on the risks and understood that this was no Sunday outing on a pleasure yacht. They would frequently be soaked to the skin, live in cramped quarters, and find themselves called up on deck in the middle of the night to reset sails.
The Crossing
Weather in the North Atlantic can be harsh and walking the footropes, 130 feet above a pitching deck to furl a topsail required three hours of skilled teamwork that was demanding in the best of weather. The voyage would become a personal achievement for the crew and prove that a reconstructed ship that sailed well, attaining a top speed of 13 knots, was much more remarkable than one that perpetually remained in harbour.
On April 18, 2015 L’Hermione entered the Bay of Biscay bound for her first port of call, Las Palmas in the Canary Islands. Though the Canaries lay 100 miles off the African coast, this was part of the traditional route from Europe to America that Lafayette had followed: the prevailing winds dictating the course. The frigate stayed in the Canaries until May 6, the crew sharpening their seafaring skills.
From Las Palmas, they sailed to the Caribbean and then up the Atlantic Coast to Yorktown, Virginia. They would make a number of American port calls before dropping anchor where Lafayette landed more than 200 years earlier.
Arriving in Yorktown on June 5, they were greeted with a thunderous welcome that included hundreds of people, the governor of Virginia and a number of high-ranking officers from the U.S. Navy. The crew were treated like rock stars and feted well by local dignitaries. In return, they offered tours of their vessel to delighted locals. The Yorktown reception was repeated in every one of the nine cities and towns where L’Hermione docked.
Finally departing North America on July 24, the ship made landfall on the French coast on Aug. 10. They had not only advanced the cause of Franco-American amity, but-Franco-Canadian as well, since L’Hermione made a port call in Nova Scotia. The expedition had also proven modern people could sail a ship of old design across Atlantic without incident.
A video chronicle of her voyage can be viewed on line at C-Span History under the title The Reconstructed French Ship Hermione.
Today, L’ Hermoine can be visited in Rochefort, France for all but one month out of the year, during which time she is at sea. She is, after all, a working ship.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: John Danielski is the author of the Tom Pennywhistle series of novels about a Royal Marine officer in the Napoleonic Wars. Book five of the series, Bellerophon’s Champion: Pennywhistle at Trafalgar was published by Penmore Press in May. For more, visit: www.tompennywhistle.com or check him out on Amazon.
